


Give Me A Shot

by HiMiTSu



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: First Meeting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 16:34:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4673744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiMiTSu/pseuds/HiMiTSu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percival doesn’t meet Lancelot per se. There is no formal introduction that usually happens whenever a new Kingsman joins the team; not even any rumor reaches Percival’s ears that a new member has been chosen.</p><p>Or how Lacnelot shot Percival before they even met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me A Shot

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a long time since I've written something, but I'm slowly dragging myself outof the writer's block. Percilot seems to help:)
> 
> You can also find my fics on [my tumblr](http://mysteryismyart.tumblr.com/) since I don't always post everything on AO3.

Percival doesn’t meet Lancelot per se. There is no formal introduction that usually happens whenever a new Kingsman joins the team; not even any rumor reaches Percival’s ears that a new member has been chosen.

It’s just that one day he’s traipsing through the home quarters’ territory, dead tired after a long difficult mission away, using the last of his strength to get to the manor since his plane crashed somewhere along the way and the radio broke so he couldn’t call for help and had to track through the country all alone on the small rations he had left. He’s truly exhausted; his thoughts as far away from Merlin and his trainees as they can be. It is dark, the night had fallen a couple hours ago, and his black clothes make him almost one with the scenery. It’s fine though, he isn’t expecting to be noticed, isn’t counting on any help from the staff. It’s not that far now anyway, he can make it to the manor. If he strains a little more he’d even be able to drop by Merlin’s office to give a short report. That would be nice, Percival thinks. And then a lovely hot bath…

His thoughts are half way to a daydream. So the bullet in his shoulder comes as unexpected and very unpleasant surprise.

Percival doesn’t cry out, just cringes at the pain and drops to a crouch immediately. He’s alert in second, eyes scanning the surroundings in search of an assailant. A second shot breaks the bark of a tree he had been standing by just a moment before, splattering him with wooden splinters.

Percival freezes, his gaze still searching. Careful not to make a sound, he reaches for a gun at his hip.

“Show yourself!” An unfamiliar voice sounds from the distance. “Hands in the air and step out!”

Percival doesn’t make a move, except for the roll of his eyes at such a ridiculous command. Who’d actually follow that?

A gun in his hand, he peeks around the low tree branches that provide him cover, looking for his opponent. There is a shadow, just at the edge of the tree line, but it disappears even before he can take aim. This is starting to get on his nerves. Plus the injury, however mild, adds heavily to his irritation.

“I won’t shoot if you don’t, you have my word!” A person shouts; he sounds so obnoxious but at the same there is this note in his voice that almost makes Percival to trust him. Almost. He doesn’t have much trust for people suddenly trying to shoot him. Especially on Kingsman grounds.

“Or you can introduce yourself?” A voice asks, sounding less agitated and more curious now. By this time they both realize how ridiculous their situation is.

Percival is not invading upon Kingsman territory, so this man, who is in his own ridiculous way taking a position of defense here, cannot be his enemy. Logically.

Finally, Percival raises his voice to answer. “Fine! One condition, tell me your name.”

“There are easier ways to get my attention then hiding out in the bushes at night.” The man jokes, seemingly completely at ease.

For a fleeing moment Percival wishes they were standing face to face, just so his flat look wouldn’t go to waste. As it is, the tree brunch in front of his face is very much unaffected and the idiot with the gun is still talking.

“I have a distinct feeling we might be on the same side. I mean, you are terribly obvious for someone invading enemy territory, which compiled with your current behavior, lead to one conclusion…you are not an enemy at all.”

“There might be some truth there.” Percival grumbles in reply, still reluctant to leave his cover. “Lower your weapon and I’ll come out.”

“Hm…” The man seems to share the sentiment, hesitant to be left without a defense but still eager to see the situation resolved. “How about you step away from the tree, and then we lower our guns simultaneously?”

That seems reasonable, Percival thinks. He says just so. There are some glaring holes in that plan, the whole thing has a potential to turn very ugly very quickly if the man actually turns out to be an enemy…But then again, this seems unlikely. Decision made, Percival steps out into the light, finally coming face to face with the man who shot him.

A checkered suit, definitely a Kingsman cut, is the first thing that draws his attention. Percival’s eyes travel up his frame, finally coming up to rest on the young handsome face. Nice features, soft brown curls falling over striking eyes. The man grins, something reckless and wild in a simple upturn of his lips, and lowers the gun slowly.

Percival follows his example and, more relaxed now, removes a black balaclava from his head.

A low whistle makes him lift his eyes back to the stranger’s face.

“If I knew you were this pretty we’d have come to a conclusion much sooner.” The man says, that infuriating grin widening.

Percival chooses to ignore the comment, considering it completely inappropriate in their circumstances. “Who are you?”

The man gives a theatrical bow before pronouncing. “Lancelot, at your service.”

So they had chosen a new Kingsman already. That was fast.

Percival gives a curt nod in return and walks past the other, heading for the mansion doors. Now that he’s sure there is no danger, the old exhaustion is making itself known again.

Lancelot easily catches up with his purposeful stride.

“Wait! You haven’t told me your name.” He’s out of breath, a little, but probably more from the excitement that the exercise.

Percival throws him a glance, acutely away of his own blood stained camouflage clothes, his hair all messy and the dirt on his cheeks. “Percival.” He replies, the annoyance and a shade of embarrassment making him sound gruffer than he intends.

But Lancelot isn’t discouraged by that. “Well, Percival,” he replies jovially and winks. “I have a feeling we will be good friends.”


End file.
